Gladiator's Prize
You made me work for this one, you bastard! I thought as I watched the lion's aides help him to his end of the arena. We both knew it was finished, but there was a form to these things, and I waited, weapon in hand on the burning sands while the surgeon looked him over. Not that I gave a damn about the heat, basking in it as much as I did in the attention of the crowd, big scaled lug that I am. A few seconds later, one of the aides tossed the lion's shield and spear in my direction, signaling his surrender. And while he lumbered away from the ring, I raised my arms as the arena erupted in cries of "Rhogat! Rhogat!". My name, in case you haven't guessed.
This is what I live for. I'm a saurian, and most of us earn our bread by fighting, since we're built for it - towering reptiles with broad shoulders, thick powerful tails, and if it comes to it - a maw full of pointed, skull-crushing teeth. Thing is, fighting is hard, dangerous work. You sign up as a soldier and you'll live to fight, putting your life on the line while someone higher up gets most of the loot and all of the glory. Well, fuck that! I'm a gladiator, and I don't live for the fight. I live for victory, for the glory of triumph, the roar of the crowd, and the rich rewards an arena champion gets!
And the crowd was roaring, after a long and tense bout between two superb fighters. The money was on the lion, since he fought with a shield and a long, razor-sharp spear. And he's damn good with both - you never knew if you were in for a slice or a stab, and if you did get past it the nimble bastard would hide behind that shield until he'd danced away out of your reach. And he wore no armor apart from bracers and shoulder guards, so he could move pretty quickly.
Another reason was that the crowd didn't like armor. Apart from the fact that it slowed things down, it wasn't what they came to see. Being a gladiator meant having bravado (not sure what that word means, but I think it's a nobby way of saying 'a huge pair'), showing your disdain for Death itself every time you stepped on the sands. That's one of the reasons I was a crowd favorite, since I always came in with nothing but a long knife, overlapping plates on my right arm, a plate on my right thigh and a shield the size of a dinner plate (quick enough to catch blows and spill the teeth of anyone paying too much attention on my blade). And when I say that's all I wear, I mean it. Hell, I'm here to give them a show anyway. And I did just that, when I ducked the lion's thrust, slammed his shield away with mine and cut a long gash across the top of his chest. Not a life-threatening wound, but he was losing a lot of blood, and that was a heavy spear. Once the tip had started wavering, he'd wisely called it quits.
As is tradition, I turned east and raised my knife in salute to the crowd, smirking as a quarter of the arena rose to their feet in response. I did the same after turning south, and once again for the western quarter until I stood facing the North and the Patron's Terrace. I raised my blade a final time in salute to the patron of today's games (some noble-born panther whose name I can never remember), noting that even he rose to his feet as he applauded, forcing his retinue to do the same.
The nobs financed these games to "show their love for the people and the Martial Sport" and I couldn't help but notice the crowd getting a little louder as he stood along with them, a show of special favor for yours truly. A nice gesture, but you don't get to where I am without learning how to read people. The panther had known where the smart money was, and I was sure he'd be leaving the arena with more than just the people's adoration. And while the standing ovation was nice, that's not what I wanted from him.
You got a pretty decent purse for every victory, and since a gladiator was allowed to bet (although only on himself, for obvious reasons) I'd earned a small fortune tonight, but had my mind on a different prize. The winner always got more than gold, and blood wasn't the only thing the sands soaked up. The patron had taken his seat, the rest of the arena following his example, and gave a few instructions to a waiting servant. The ferret disappeared somewhere and moments later the Patron's Gate opened. Gladiator's emerged from gates situated to the east and west, the more senior fighter always getting the western gate, to face the rising star. Might seem like a mean way to treat an arena veteran, calling them a setting Sun, until you remembered the fights started at noon, so the younger fighter in a later match would emerge squinting in the glare of the Sun until he circled to a better position. The northern gate is where the winner's prize emerged from, and what a prize it was!
I'd expected one of the pit whores (the polite term is 'arena concubine', but us gladiators call them pit whores 'cause they don't give a damn, and nobody has the 'bravado' to correct us), women chosen both for their looks and stamina. And let me tell you it took a lot of stamina to take a fucking from brutes like us and still be able to walk away on your own two legs. The creature walking onto the sand on a dainty pair of hooves didn't look like it could take such a fucking, but the smile on his face said he'd like to try.
Yeah, a male, although you wouldn't know until you looked between his legs, like I was doing. He was wearing nothing but a few scraps of some gauzy material, and he was slowly discarding even those as he sauntered towards me, revealing a slim, milky-white equine body, the sight of which was already causing my cock to peek from out of it's slit. My guess would be that somebody had tried to breed his slaves to produce a race horse but wound up with a runt, albeit a beautiful one. The chest was to narrow, the legs to slender for a true racer, but a pretty young boy like this was still worth a fortune. Nobles often bought them as bed-slaves, since they could fuck them as much as they liked and never worry about unwanted bastards. I certainly wasn't disappointed. I liked my women big, but I liked my males small, just so there's no confusion about who's taking who's cock.
The colt looked eager enough when he stepped out, smiling and making a show of shedding his clothing as he went, but the closer he got the more anxious he seemed. I could guess why - us gladiators looked big from the stands and the sidelines, but in person we were giants! The closer he got, the bigger I got, in more ways than one. Soon enough he had to look up to meet my eyes, and seemed more than a little intimidated by the scaled behemoth towering over him. Still, one glance between those shapely legs told me that he was also more than a little aroused. As for me, my cock was half way out now, and the colt was having a hard time keeping his eyes on mine.
Once he was standing next to me he began to raise his right arm, intending to offer me his hand, but one look at the expression on my face told him not to bother. Instead, he knelt down, placing that delicate equine muzzle level with my shaft, to the crowds delight. Now, there are some fighters who take their prize back to their quarters, lay on their bed, empty a few bottles and/or pipes and let their companion ride their cocks while they relax. A rare few only take their prize along for show, and once out of sight seek out another gladiator and a discrete place to bend over for him. Go figure...
Most gladiators, however, know it's important to give the crowd a show. With that in mind I put a hand on the colt's head and slid my cock past his eager lips. What can I say, anything for my fans! Damn, this kid can suck a cock! This definitely wasn't his first time kneeling in front of a male, considering he was nursing on my shaft like a foal on his mother's teat, but I don't think he's ever had anyone quite as big as me. Even with that lovely, long equine muzzle he had to open his throat in order to take my full length, sputtering slightly as I squirted pre straight down his gullet.
I gave a low growl of approval, smirking as the sound sent shivers down the colt's lithe body. He took the cue and started sliding his mouth off my rod, those soft pink lips clinging to every contour of my cock before swallowing the whole thing again. Such an eager little thing, I didn't even need to move his head for him. They always sent them out prepared, sometimes giving them a drink or something to smoke to calm their nerves. Not this one though. He was sober and eager, probably fingered and stroked by some other whore, brought to the very edge over and over again until he was ready to throw himself at a nice hard cock.
I grunted now and again, enjoying the sensation of the colt's warm mouth, his tongue lapping at my head when he pulled himself off, and his throat squeezing me when he drove his muzzle down. He had one hand on my hip, bracing himself while the other stroked the two prominent bulges beneath my cock-slit. I can't tell you what a relief it is for a fighter to have his jewels safely tucked away behind a solid layer of scales instead of dangling in a fleshy pouch! Gods below, they must have sent this boy out thirsty considering he was doing his best to milk me. Well, I'm gonna fill him up, but I've got another end in mind...
"That's a helluva mouth you got there, kid..." I said, pulling him off and stopping to admire the sight of him panting, his lips parted and glistening with his spit and my juices as he looked up at me "...but how about you show me your little colt-pussy?".
The slut was well trained, and a few seconds later he was standing with his legs spread, bending over so that his fingers were touching the sand. Fuck, this little whore was a natural showman, lifting his snowy tail to show the whole damn arena a pretty pink pucker, well prepared and glistening with oil, as well as a smooth sack and by now almost stiff horsecock. Not bad, for a filly. I'm gonna have a lot of fun getting that little colt-clit to squirt for the crowd. One of the few fighters I mentioned earlier told me once that even males have something back there that likes a good pounding. I'll have to take his word for it, since nobody's ever going to get to pound mine, but I have been able to make an occasional boy mess himself during a good fucking. Still, I prefer to think that my cock is so good even males get off on it, literally.
The crowd was once again cheering, the sight of the bent-over boy driving them wild as they hooted and shouted out helpful suggestions to me. I have to admit the colt was a pretty sight, head down and ass up, as if he was offering himself to the whole arena. I walked over and gave that well-presented rear a light slap, noting there was almost no jiggle. A nice, firm boy butt, although the kid was gonna wish he had some cushioning by the time I was done with him.
The height was a bit of a problem. The colt had nice, long legs, and this position probably served him well with regular males, but I was anything but. So I put my two beefy hands on his hips and hoisted the surprised filly up until his ass was level with my crotch, his legs dangling in the air behind me and his fingers barely touching the ground. I bent over a bit, trying to angle my tip down to his boy-pussy without using my hands. I made quite a mess, squirting every time I poked and prodded those pert white cheeks but I finally managed to get my pointed tip right in the middle of that pretty pink pucker, smiling as the opening twitched at the intrusion.
Now if this was a pit whore I'd just stab my cock in to the hilt, knowing that those girls can take even a monster like mine in one go when they're good and horny. But even though this colt was a whore I doubted he was ready for what I had to give him. So I just kept pushing in, my steady pace forcing his insides to make room for me, but giving him a chance to adjust. I wouldn't mind having this boy again, so I didn't want to break him. He was making little mewling noises as inch after inch of my reptilian cock sank into his pliant ass. He never said things like 'no' or 'stop' but I didn't expect him to. Part of his early training would have been taking anything without complaint. Still, that tail was still flagged as high as it could go, and I couldn't help but notice he was squirting quite a bit on the sand below him. At some point he'd bent his knees so that his hooves were pressed against my back, balancing himself a little better and almost urging me to push forward. Not that I needed urging.
Once my scaly crotch touched his quivering cheeks the colt groaned, taking deep breaths as I ground my hips, moving my rod around inside him. His pucker was stretched so tight around me it was barely visible, but I could sure as hell feel it squeezing around my cock as the colt's pussy adjusted to the monster buried within it. I gave him a few seconds to catch his breath while I savored the sensation of his ass. Damn, I know this boy's a whore but he feels as tight as a virgin! Shame he had to wait this long to have a real man breed him.
Once he'd relaxed a bit I started slowly pulling out, grinning at the sight of his pucker clinging to every bump on my cock. I was glad he couldn't see me, 'cause when somebody with teeth like mine grins it ain't exactly a pretty sight. Once I was about two thirds of the way out, I bucked and drove the whole thing back inside in a single stroke. The colt let out a sharp squeal as my hips smacked into his ass, followed almost instantly by the sound of his cock slapping against that flat stomach of his. I figured this filly was ready for a ride.
The crowd cheered as I began a steady pace, drawing out slowly only to burry myself with one thrust, claiming the boy's ass over and over as he bit his lip to stifle either screams or moans. I figured it was moans, since he was taking me easier now, clenching his pucker when I pulled out to give me a nice squeeze and relaxing it before I drove my cock back in. They did a pretty good job of oiling him up back there, and after milking my rod his ass was already sloppy, the sounds of our fucking now noticeably wetter. 'Course, he was going to be a lot messier after I was done with him. His shoulder muscles were tense as he struggled to support his weight while I rutted him, claiming his tight boy-hole with every thrust of my steel-hard rod.
Seconds turned into minutes as I fucked the brains out of my little filly, the milky-white colt now covered in a sheen of sweat, his pretty long mane a damp mess on his long alabaster neck. I on the other hand am cold-blooded and the heat of the afternoon sun was doing wonders for me, washing away the fatigue of a long fight and giving me renewed energy, every ounce of which was invested in plowing the boy's supple ass, to the crowd's delight. The arena was practically ringed with brothels, and they'd be making a killing tonight after hundreds of horny spectators went looking some relief. For those with a lighter purse, the nearby alleyways were full of whores sucking cock for a reasonable price, and as for those who couldn't afford even them, well, yanking it in the stands was acceptable as long as you were discreet and didn't shoot all over the person in front of you.
Speaking of shooting, I'd gotten a little carried away and almost missed the twitching of my little filly's pussy, telling me he was close to cumming. Not so fast, kid. I shifted one of my hands until I felt his pouch and gave it a little squeeze, making the boy hiss in pain, but putting a stop to his climax.
"Not so fast my little slut! These people came here to see a show." I rumbled.
I stopped thrusting and bent my knees, lowering myself a little before releasing the colt's hips, so that I could stay buried inside him. The confused boy planted his hooves on the ground again, barely supporting his weight on shaky legs. That's just what I was waiting for, and I swept my arms out and up, hooking them behind the filly's knees as I rose, the boy now leaning against my back, fully impaled on my cock as I held his legs wide and off the ground. The crowd roared in approval as it got an even better view of the colt's cock-dazed face as well as pretty pink rod bouncing between his legs.
"There's a good little filly..." I rumbled, enjoying the sensation of his pucker clenching around the base of my cock "...now show the crowd how much you enjoy having your little pussy pounded!" I finished, giving my hips a buck as I did.
To his credit, the boy did as he was told, moaning like the whore he was as I bounced his petite body up and down on my shaft, his colt-clit bouncing wildly with every thrust. He threw one arm back and around my neck, hanging on for dear life as I pumped my hips, lifting him half way off my cock with every thrust before he slid down, his cheeks smacking against my cock-slit as he took every inch of me. Ever the showman, every once again I would shift my feet slightly, turning so I could give the whole arena a nice view of my little filly betting bred. The crowd ate it up, the whole stadium roaring as I did my second salute of the day. I finished, of course, facing north and the Patron's Terrace, showing that panther just how much I was enjoying his tribute, and vice versa.
Even after what seemed an eternity of me rutting his ass, the boy was still tight, his messy colt-pussy gripping my shaft as it claimed him like no cock has before. The slut was still moaning, his sweaty body writhing against mine as I fucked him stupid. As those whorish sounds rose in pitch I once again felt his pucker tighten around me, telling me my girl was ready to cum. Since I wasn't that far off I picked up my pace, the sluts moans now shaky as I drove into him with sharp, lightning-fast strokes, my cock barely leaving the warm, silky confines of his ass.
My hips were a blur, my ears filled with wet slurping sounds as I pounded the boy raw. I didn't slow down even when I felt his whole body tense, his ass gripping my cock like a velvet vice as he screamed out in ecstasy. I kept pounding even while the little slut came, spurting like a fountain as his flared cock bounced, sending streams of pearly white cum flying through the air while his pucker did it's best to milk me of mine. That was about all I could take, feeling my own hefty balls get ready to pump their massive load into the eager ass squeezing my rod. I'd held back for as long as I could, and when it finally hit me I let out a roar that almost drowned out the crowd as I flooded the boy's cunt, the little slut groaning as I sent blast after blast of my spunk deep inside him.
My hips kept bucking, every thrust timed to every pump as I bred the cum-dazed filly still impaled on my erupting shaft, his pucker clenched so tight around my swollen member that not a drop of my spunk leaked out. Eventually my rutting subsided, my thrusts coming to a halt as I sent a few final spurts deep into the boy's well-fucked ass. With my cock still hard and still buried in his rear, I knelt down and lowered the colt's legs until his hooves were touching the ground. He tried to stand, but without my cock holding him up he just crumpled up, panting with his head on the sand and his ass still in the air.
I had to stop to admire the sight of the gasping boy presenting his well-bred rump to me, thick globs of my cum slowly seeping from his gaping pucker. I could just walk away and somebody would come by and lead him away, but looking at him like that I decided I still have a few loads for such a pretty little filly. I bent over and scooped him up, easily lifting the petite colt over one shoulder so that messy boy-pussy was next to my head. And because I do love my fans I gave another turn, giving the whole arena a great view of the kid's thoroughly-fucked ass. Once I was done I gave it a light slap, smirking as the colt let out a weak little squeal before heading for my quarters. To the victor go the spoils, as they say, so I figured I'd spoil myself some more...